"Allah akhbar!" he commenced, then more mildly: "yet how can we say aught against so excellent a young man, as he who plucked our princess from the pirates?"
Richard's gorge was rising; but before his hot words broke forth, Musa, who had bided his time, interposed:—
"Tell me, Cid Louis," said he, in his broken Languedoc, "men say you have served in Spain; is that not so?"
"I saw service there with Raymond of St. Gilles," was the answer, "and with King Alfonso, and Cid Campeador."
"And brave cavaliers they are," continued the Andalusian. "None better, Christian or Moslem, so far as knightly courtesy is known."
"You say well," asserted the Provençal; "they are splendid knights. By the Cross," he added deprecatingly, "I count myself no poor lance, with St. Martin's help; but in Spain every cavalier was nigh my peer."
"I rejoice you found such noble comrades; but, by Allah, know this, O Frank: I have ridden against all the good lances of Spain, and Richard Longsword of Cefalu is as firm a saddle as the best!"
The Spaniard had drawn himself up haughtily; there was fire in his eye, half a threat in his voice. Neither De Valmont nor Iftikhar cared to contradict him. And when Louis, vainly endeavoring to turn the tide that was setting against him in the princess's presence, again proposed a tenso, Richard was again able to answer in tones of lofty scorn.
"Have you no shame, fair sir, to rehearse here the frivolous songs you doubtless learned at the court of William of Aquitaine, whose cansos and tornadas are all in praise of his paramours—a new love and a new song each day?"
"Have a care, young sir, have a care!" quoth the southern knight, angrily.